Imaginary
by A Carnival Of Idiots On Show
Summary: Max's imaginary friend, Fang, disappeared when she was 10. But when she starts to see faux appearances of him 6 years later, she doesn't know what to make of herself anymore. What if he was just an image, a hallucination? Or what if he was actually...real?
1. Where It Began

**I am here with a new idea! This is just a test chapter to see If I should continue. In the reviews, I would really appreciate your opinion of the plot. Enjoy!**

The cold chill of the snowflakes lashed at my eyebrows. My teeth chattered violently in the winter air. This was the place that started it all. The place I met Fang.

_Flashback (Max, 7 years old)_

_My new shoes clicked against the gray pavement. I skipped down the empty street completely and totally joyous. My pink frilly dress swayed in the summer breeze as I viewed the various shaped clouds above._

_I fixed my gaze back on the ground, seeing a dark figure ahead of me. Cocking my head to the side, I yelled for the boy who was to enticed by the beauty of the sunset to notice me. His thin figure was leaning against a rail meant for handicapped people. Headphones placed in his ear and hands placed his pockets, I could see the dark color of his eyes from afar._

_"Hey! Hey, you!" I thrashed my hands in a waving motion, wanting to catch his attention. He tilted his head sideways. For a second, I could see the obsidian irises flick towards me. My breath hitched as he started pacing toward the sidewalk square both my feet were placed on._

_His headphones were now wrapped around his neck, his hands swaying back and forth limply beside him. His feet were surprisingly silent against the cement, a shadow ominously not appearing beside him._

_"Hello." His voice was deep, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. Up close now, it was easy to tell he was about my age. Gold flecks splattered across his eyes, me noticing more detail about him._

_I shakily held out my hand. Lifting my head, I felt a twang of nervousness course through my veins. He held out his too and shook my hand. But there was no feeling of skin. All I felt was air touching the middle of my palms._

_"Fang." His voice was quiet, reserved. I nodded warily, still confused of the situation. I smiled once more and yelled my name out loudly._

_"Max!" Placing my thumb on my chest, I signaled that that was me, my name. He smirked slightly and sat down on the pavement below. I slid down beside him as we watched the sun grow weaker. The burning rays of the star now but a cool blue and purple mix._

_And that was the day I met Fang. My imaginary friend._

_End of Flashback_

**Max P.O.V. (9 year later, age 16)**

Inhaling the evening breeze, I remembered the minty scent of him. My best friend whom I so longed to be beside me. The ocean was the same, and so was the sky. But each and every day I sat on that special concrete square, I felt a bubble of loneliness grow inside me. Because he wasn't here. He wasn't laughing at my jokes or scaring me with his sudden greetings. Because...I missed Fang.

He had disappeared when I was 10. He just...left. And the worst part was, now that he was gone, no one was there for me anymore. Mom was an alcoholic since dad died. And Ella, my sister, ran away 3 years ago. So no one was there to watch me get that swimming trophy when I was 13. Or the spelling bee medallion when I was 15. No one.

I created a wall. An emotional wall. I never showed sadness, anger, disappointment...Only a blank surface. A dull pencil. A colorless painting.

Fang had helped me in ways. People had called me crazy, yes. But...He made me open up more to the world. When he stood beside me, there was nothing I couldn't do. But now, there's nothing I can do.

I always had hope that someday he would return, someday he would hug me and tell me how much he missed me. But each and every day was only met with a wave of disappointment stomping on my heart.

I already knew it, though. The fact that he would never appear again.

* * *

The alarm clock rang through my ears, sending a groan throughout my vocal cords. A familiar shape filled my eyes as I groggily lifted my head from the drool-slathered pillow. Total, my dog, was sitting across from me with his tongue slightly peeking out from his mouth.

"Go...away..." But the dog was persistent. He strided over to me with his stubby feet and planted a slobbery lick on my cheek. I cringed my nose, jumping up and down on the bed to scare him away. He just sat and stared with his adorable, Bambi eyes. Damn dog.

"Total! Gross!" I wiped my cheek with the cotton sheets beneath me, sliding over to the drawers lazily. Today was a school day. Joy.

Clutching onto my wooden brush, I managed to comb through the gnarly knots strewn inside of my bed head. My scalp was sore from all the tugging and pulling, the many spots where I pulled the strands out aching.

The thing about me was, I hated mornings. Hated 'em. All the birds chirping and the sun shining scenes in the movies are a bunch of crap. Because my mornings are full of cleaning up dog poop and finishing homework I forgot to do the night before.

I sprinted down the hall, gaze set on the ground. The floor was the usual. Dusty and dull. I felt my feet hit the surface of the living room, looking up to feel a scream rush through my mouth.

Sitting in my usual chair, was Fang. My imaginary friend. Sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. He flicked his familiar-colored eyes at my direction and smiled sweetly, waving at my pale face.

"Hi, Max. I'm home."


	2. The Bullied Ones

**Hellow ALL! I'm still in that faze where I'm testing the story out so please tell me if I should continue. This capter will determine if I should or not. Thanks so far! I appreciate every review, view, favorite, and follow a lot. **

I cupped my hand to my mouth and ran to the bathroom. Fang wasn't there. He wasn't real. He...disappeared But I couldn't keep myself from replaying that scene in my head.

There he sat in the wooden chair, sipping from a coffee cup. But he looked so...real. I wanted to run to him, to feel like Max again. Because he was a part of me. But he was just a figment of my imagination. And that's why I screamed.

I glared at the glinting mirror in front of me. Lifting my hand from the bathroom mantle below, I wiped the sweat trickling down from my forehead with my trembling fingers. The fact that I haven't seen him in over 6 years scared me the most.

"Maxie!" My heart pounded through my chest. Hearing his deep voice, I ran to the corner of the bathroom and sunk low onto the tile floors. I clamped my hands over my ears, ignoring his melodic cries of his voice. Burying my face into my raggedy jeans, I cried silently into the fabric.

"You're not real! You're not!" My voice was loud and shaky, my lungs aching from the high-pitched yells. His obsidian eyes flashed through my brain, drizzled with specks of golden dust. The familiarity of it all made me lose my mind.

"Maxie! Come on!" His voice was glitchy sounding, his figure fading in the midst of the bathroom. Tears streamed down his face and his hands elongated, reaching for my palms. The lights of the bathroom flickered violently, making me shudder.

"Max! Listen!" The bathroom quaked furiously, spilling various bottles of shampoo across there furbished carpets. Unknown liquids poured from the cabinet, mixing with the contents already strewn on the floor.

And then he was gone.

The cabinets and bathroom neatly packed, not a single item out of place. My eyes widened as I rushed to the kitchen surface. The chairs were all pushed in, no coffee cups across the table.

"What the hell?" And Fang was nowhere in sight.

* * *

The bell rang through my ears. All that was left of this morning was a colossal migraine. I still couldn't tell if it was all a dream or...reality. Feeling a sudden force against my back, I warped back to reality, inhaling the sickly smell of the school floors.

"Haha. Good one, Dyl." I scowled, biting my lips to keep from shouting at the two boys.

"Thanks, Sam." I felt a sudden bile rise in my throat from the abrasive shove of the two nimrods. You see, Dylan Batchelder and Sam Smith were the most popular guys in the school. Girls always fawned over Dylan's muscle size, I scoffed. He flicked his crystal-like eyes to mine, plastering a disgustingly pearly smile on his face.

"Whoops...Sorry, Ride." He said through noticeable chuckles, sauntering away with his other idiot friends. Wiping the grubble of the floor on my pants, I focused on getting to class. But for the 3rd time today, the bell had already reverberated through the halls.

I kicked a stray pencil on the floors around, tossing it between my two feet before sending the object against the far wall. It had always been this way. Since 2nd grade around when I met him.

I was a loner. No one befriended me, knowing it would be social suicide from there. I didn't own a Facebook, and you can probably guess why. Yep. Me, Maximum Ride, on the bottom space across the social hierarchy.

I tried counselors for my problems, but they all said the same thing. They told me they would stop the bullying. But a few weeks later, it began again. So, I gave up on speaking out my issues.

Not wanting to go to class, I roamed the halls silently, wandering around the waxed surfaces. The only people who really saw me were the janitors. But they just looked, glared, and began their jobs once more. I sighed. Always the same.

But once, I actually had a friend. Once. Krystal "Nudge" Robinson was the new student last year. She didn't know about the rules of the school. The "laws". One was never to talk to me. But she didn't know. So she came by my side at lunch and pulled out her turkey sandwich, unaware of the situation.

A day later she stopped talking to me.

I thought about her and my old friends constantly, remembering the couple days I knew what it was like to have friends. He was the longest. But he wasn't real.

A sudden touch of skin on my palm circled me back into reality. I swiftly turned around, expecting a prank...a gag. But instead I once again found him. With his hands in his pockets, casually leaning against a glass case in the midst of the empty lunchroom.

"That's it. I'm crazy." I pinched the bridge of my nose and glanced up, glaring at the dark figure in front of me. He switched his gaze to me and smiled widely, walking to the spot my feet were set on.

"Max! Maxie!" He lengthened his arms widely, and trapped me in a hug. The weird part was...I could feel him. A sudden feeling of anger boiled through me as I tried to squirm out of his hug.

"I-you...You! No!" I pulled away from him, backing away slowly. His face grew slightly saddened, placing his hand at the back of his neck.

"You're imaginary. You disappeared. You're...fake. They said so!" I shouted, ignoring the crowd gathering around me. People gazed at me like I was different, not sane. Which, at that moment, I wasn't.

"Listen! Listen to me, Max! They lied! I'm-I'm real! Why can't you trust me!" His obsidian black hair flopped over his eyes, thrashing his hands around agitatedly.

"Because you left! You left me! I had no one! You were a part of me! And you...left." I felt my face heat up, my vision growing blurry from the tears blocking my vision. His mouth hung open, eyes widened.

"Max..." I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the school doors, the laughter of kids flooding my hearing. Stumbling as I went, I focused my eyesight on the road ahead. Fang's shouts and the crowd's snickers mixed together, feeling my vision grow hazy. My chest pounded, my legs aching.

And then it all faded.


	3. We Never Change, Do We?

Fang didn't appear for a while after then. He just left. Like before. And once again...I felt abandoned, the familiar bubble of rejection in my stomach.

It hurt me so much to think that he actually was back, that he returned to my side. Because for 6 stupid years I had to suffer. Without him. Without anybody. No one really cared about the lonely girl who sat by the trash cans at lunch. Everyone just walked by and stared, disgusted.

Sighing, I grasped onto the metal handle of my house. Another day of Dylan and Sam's tricks had left me exhausted. And of course, as usual, I already knew mom was home. The smell alcohol drifting through the air told me so.

Her body laid passed out on the couch, arm hanging limply to the side. Ever since Ella left, her heart just shattered. And she was no longer the loving parent I once knew.

I was the one with the job. I was the one who paid for the house. And I was the one who bought groceries. 'Cause she didn't want to. She was the one who slept all day and hung out at bars, leaving me behind. Usually, she left for weeks to places unknown. But never, did she ever, say 'I love you' before she left or even the simplest hug. And she never knew how I felt.

That in life, I was constantly drowning in my thoughts. Thoughts that no one cared to question me about. Thoughts that...only he would want me to describe. But no longer did he ask. No longer did anyone. So therefore, invisibility was my power. Because I was indeed invisible to the human eye.

We never change, do we? **(A golden sticker to the person who can guess what this is from!)**

* * *

A beer can crushed under my shoes. And so did the many objects ahead. Mumbling words under my breath, I made my way to mom. Her silky hair was a mess, scraggly under my touch. Her lips produced various pitched groans as I pushed two caplets of ibuprofen in her sweaty palms.

Her eyelids fluttered open, brown eyes cold as she set her gaze on my figure. Grunting, she threw the ibuprofen against the ceiling and shoved me off the couch. And she went back to her sleep. I try to help, but she never wants it. It seems as though she withers away on purpose.

"Love you mom." I whispered, walking to the kitchen. I tried to hold back a tear, remembering my wall. But as strong as I was, I wasn't immune to the effects of depression overwhelming me. So I let a single tear drop down my cheek. One single drop that soon turned to many.

"You know, the Max I remember doesn't cry." He stated. Looking up, I saw him leaning on the over rail, gazing at my sinking appearance.

"G-get away from me." I stumbled into a corner, afraid of the outcomes to this conversation. His dark eyes flicked to my dripping hands, wet from my stained cheeks. I quickly wiped them on my jeans, turning away from him.

"Everyone thinks I'm loony." I leaned forward, letting my forehead touch the walls of the refrigerator. Collecting my breath, I continued on with my sentence. "And it's all your fault."

My breath hitched as I said that. I knew how much that would hurt him. But I ignored it, feeling a warm hand on my shoulder. "You're not crazy." His deep voice rang throughout the room. And it was hard for me not to scream at his words.

Of course I'm insane. I'm talking to my imaginary friends for crying out loud!

"Y-your hand..." I shrugged his palm off my shoulder, facing him. The warmth of his touch radiated off of me. And as much as I hated to admit it, I knew that he was really standing there.

He lifted his fingers to my cheeks, holding my chin in a firm grasp. The tears were no longer there. My cheeks were no longer wet. But his hand was gleaming from wiping the drops away.

And he faded away. He disappeared once more.

And the weird thing was, throughout the whole confrontation, he had a shadow. A tall, skinny shadow.

* * *

"Where's your imaginary friend now, Ride? Huh?" Dylan spoke, pushing me to Sam. His blue eyes filled with joy as he shoved me to the ground. Flipping his hair, Sam continued to kick my ribs roughly. But I stayed silent to their beating. I didn't want to give them their satisfaction. I would wait till after.

My eyes closed, wishing to be home. Wishing that they would just disappear, go away. Never did that actually happen. Because after each beating, they would walk away nonchalantly. And I would stand there, coughing up blood on the pavement. The cold, gray pavement.

I've never been to religious in my life. Every prayer I created was never answered. But now, all I hoped was too die. My body six feet under the soil, hands crossed over my pale body.

I lied there, trying to catch my breath. They left me behind the school near the bushes as always. My stomach was an ugly mix of brown and purple, lifting up my tee to expose the damaged skin.

I cried out in pain as I slowly poked the bruise with my thumb, feeling like I've been stabbed. The same feeling that occurred many times before. The same feeling that was constant, never stopped. Because they never stopped, much to my dismay. I struggled to get up from the black surface of the parking lot. Wiping the little pebbles of my shirt, I limped home, no one to help or notice my agony.

Nothing ever changes. Nothing.

**Kind of depressing chapter. Ok, a lot depressing. But...hey...I updated! Yay? Ya? No? Ok.. Sorry for the extreme late-ness of this story. But I promise you, I WILL FINISH! I WILL! I AM COMMITTED! And bored, soooo... Yep. Eating cheerios and watching a whole marathon of girl code sure does give me inspiration. SO BE PREPARED FOR THE AWESOME-NESS THAT's HEAD! BECAUSE I WILL NOT FAIL! FOR NARNIA! I just felt the need to do that... **

**BE SEEING YA!**


	4. The Tree Of Rememberance

**GOSH DARNIT! I WAS IN SUCH A GOOD MOOD AND ALL AND THEN...I ATE A PB + J SANDWICH WITH TOO MUCH JELLY! WTF? WHERE'S THE PEANUT BUTTER?! NO WHERE! BECAUSE I SUCK AT MAKING SANDWICHES! Why does the world have to be so cruel...**

Nothing's making sense anymore. Life feels like a never ending nightmare. And quite frankly, I'm thinking that a mental hospital is not far in my future. At least, that's what the therapist implied when he was 'helping' me. But all he really did was convict me of being a psycho path.

The leaves outside crunched under my boots. Fall had arrived, warning everyone to get ready for winter. I however, did not. Since I don't have a car, I couldn't get myself a coat. And my dear Mother was taking a nap...you could say. So, there I stood. Staring outside a window, watching popular kids from school throw eggs at our house.

I couldn't help but feel that lately, I've been sleepwalking. I'd wake up in the morning, and guess what I saw? A coffee cup laying at the right end of the table. But the weird thing is that it wasn't full. No stains, no liquids...nothing. Just a stupid Christmas mug. But as always, I shrugged off the issue, placing the cup back in the cabinet.

The bruise was still there. From a couple days ago when I had my weekly beating. Except now, It was growing worse. Spreading across my stomach, it enveloped various patches of skin. All but an ugly shade of purple, brown, and now green.

A sudden action pulled me from my thoughts, seeing the bathroom light flicker on and off. I cocked my head to the side and paced to the doorknob, opening it just a crack. All that appeared before me was a flickering bulb.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

* * *

"Ms. Martinez?" I glanced up from the open window that exposed the outdoors to see my teacher, unsatisfied. His face could be compared to a rat, eyebrows furrowed, yellow teeth grinding against each other as he waited for me to acknowledge him.

"Yes, Mr. Martin?" Question a bland tone, I paused to hear the response I've heard many times before. I curled my finger around a nearby pencil, continuing to admire the beauty of the outer world. Buildings were such nuisance.

"Would you care to explain to the class why that window is more important than the lesson I'm teaching?" The grass swayed on the soccer field. The clouds churned in the sky. And here I was, stuck in Science with Mr. Rat-face.

"No. I don't care to explain. I just want to look out the window." I stated simply, ignoring his pissed-off sigh. A flash of thunder boomed through the sky, sending a bolt of lightning down. A couple girls shrieked in the front row, but I stayed put, admiring the purple tint of the strikes.

"Oh, well then. Too bad they don't have any open windows during detention." I shrugged slightly, keeping my gaze on the sky. It hypnotized me, the severe weather a pendulum, shaking back and forth across my pupils. It was too entrancing to ignore. But the slap of a yellow paper on my desk pulled me out of my daze. Gazing up, I saw Mr. Martins hunched figure place a detention slip in front of me. I looked at the paper, then at him, eyebrows raised.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the window, once again enveloped in the storm. Snickers were spread across the class as I shook my head from the immaturity.

Some things never differ, do they?

* * *

Detention was horrible as ever. Everyone was sleeping, drooling on their supposed homework assignments. Only I was the one who hadn't fallen into the temptation of slumber. Although sleeping did sound nice, I kept my eyelids adrift.

And then a note was slipped on my desk. A stained, crumpled note. I viewed around the room for any possible suspects. But everyone was asleep, the same details as before.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I unfolded the paper, scrawled out cursive written across the lines. It was a note. From Fang. My eyes widened with a skim of the slip, going over the sentence repeatedly in my mind. It couldn't be real, could it?

_The clubhouse. Please._

_-F _

I tried to reason with myself that this was another prank from Sam and Dylan. But then I realized, they never even heard me speak out Fang's name. So it couldn't have been them.

It must've been...Fang.

* * *

I didn't know what I was doing. I was insane, not thinking straight. My feet padded against the soil grounds, cupping my hands on my forehead to see ahead.

The wooden tower was in my sight, panting heavily as I sped to the tree containing the architecture. The clubhouse.

_Flashback (Max, 8 years old)_

_My new sneakers bumped together as I struggled to keep up with Fang. A grin plastered itself on my face, a smile sneaking up on his lips. We had made a plan. A plan to build our own home, to runaway from our parents. Well...mine, anyways._

_"Come on, slowpoke!" He hollered, turning back to face me. My breath was heavy, bending down, hands tightly placed on my knee caps. Fang's face twisted to one with worry, striding over to hand me a water bottle. I took it graciously, sipping the liquid from the bottle._

_The next thing you know, I knocked him on the ground, racing ahead of him. "Tricked ya! Now you're the slowpoke, slowpoke!" I grinned, seeing Fang's mouth agape._

_"Hey! That's not fair! You cheated! Cheater!" I continued running, hearing him chant about me being a cheater._

_"Cheater, cheater! Pumpkin eater!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. I rolled my eyes and angled my body towards him._

_"I'm allergic to pumpkins, silly! I can't be eating them if I'm allergic to them." I shoved him slightly and he shoved me back, pushing us both on the ground. We took one glance at each other and laughed, Fang getting up and reaching for my hand._

_What we didn't realize was right above us was a tree. And not just any tree. A tall, perfect tree. The bark wasn't mossy, the leaves were a luscious green, and the sun shined on the branches in just the right way. Fang looked up at the tree, then back to me._

_"Here. We'll live here. Together." I nodded, taking out a bucket of paint. Black paint (Fang didn't want pink...). Dipping my hand in it, I marked my paint-covered hand on the side of the tree, him following my actions. We both stared in awe at our creation, an idea popping up in my mind._

_"We need to carve our names in the tree. Then it'll be ours. Forever." I grabbed my pocket knife my dad gave me (Don't ask...) and delicately carved our initials into the trunk. Rubbing my pinky on the wood, I brushed away the shavings._

_M + F_

_Together Forever._

_He stuck out his pinky, keeping his eyes set on mine. "Promise?" I curled my pinky around his, smiling._

_"I promise."_

_End of Flashback_

Our hand prints were still there, but fading. I sighed, squinting my eyes to read the carving. My heart thrummed as I read each word carefully.

"Together..." I paused, trying to remember the statement made years ago.

"Forever. Together Forever." He whispered into my ear, beside me. His black hair flopped over one eye, the other staring intently at the tree. Shivers ran up and down my back, hearing that familiar voice.

"Our home." I said quietly. I didn't expect him to hear it, but I guess he did, a warm smile gracing his lips. He placed his hand on the trunk, running his fingers along each crack and crevice. The tree was still perfect. Not a single patch of moss in sight. Just the same old tree that was forever stamped into my brain, a seal of our friendship, never leaving each other's side.

"But you did. You left my side. You...broke the promise." My eyes were watering, boring holes into the imprint. Fang sighed, reaching down for my hand hanging limply beside me. Our fingers intertwined.

"Never again." He spoke, lifting up our connected palms up.

'Never." I whispered back. "Never again." He grinned, reaching for something behind him. It was a paint bucket. A pink paint bucket.

I dipped my hand slowly into the contents, relishing the bright color surrounding my fingertips. Placing my hand directly above the old carving, I formed a new hand print. Fang followed, the pink color unfitting for him.

I grabbed the same knife used before, clutching it in a tight grip. My palms slowly, yet gracefully wrote out a new imprint, a new start.

_M + F_

_Never Again. Always and Forever._

"Never Again." I whispered to him.

"Always and forever." He whispered back.

I stuck out my trembling pinky, feeling the nighttime breeze brush across. Chills ran up and down my arms, goosebumps strewn across my arms.

"Promise?"

"Promise?" And he hugged me tightly, his minty embrace enveloping me. I melted into the hug, not wanting to let go. He was my wall. He kept me together. The only one who cared.

"I missed you, Max."

**YOU GUYS BETTER BE FREAKIN HAPPY! THIS WAS A LONG CHAPTER! SO THERE! If you were surprised at the length (Hehe...I have a wrong mind) of the chapter (Oh...You meant chapter...Not- NEVERMIND) then you apparently didn't listen when i said to be prepared for the awesome-ness! BECAUSE I MEANT IT, BEE-YATCH! OH YAH! **

**I GOT FRICKIN SKILLS, BITCH!**


	5. Her Past, His Jealousy

**OH MY FRICKIN GLOB. Such...a ...long...chapter...fingers...aching...badly...so. ..hungry...craving...a...big...mac...ranting...suc h..a...long...authors...note...Enjoy...**

I felt the pavement below brush against my pant's pockets, the humid breeze floating above us. The tradition had continued, just me and Fang staring at the sky above. The stars glimmered in a gem-like manner, the clouds drifting away each second. It was perfect.

I licked my vanilla ice-cream cone with ease. Sure, the man behind the counter gave me weird looks when I bought Fang his chocolate cone. But honestly...being with him just erases all the people surrounding me. Until it's just us. The two of us.

Sighing, I noted the silence enveloping our still bodies. It wasn't awkward. It could be easier explained as comfortable.

"Everything is so different. So, so different." I whispered, fiddling with my thumbs. Fang glanced at me before turning his head upwards, facing the stars once more. My head buried itself into my knees, currently tucked in by my chest.

"What happened? When I was...gone?" He faced me, flicking his irises in my direction. I gulped unknowingly. I hated the past. Especially mine. Dwelling in the memories just caused me more pain. Like I didn't have enough of that already.

"Horrible things." Not wanting to continue the conversation, I averted my face from him, still nestled in my knees. His eyebrows furrowed, his fingers drumming against the sidewalk square. Nighttime was stalking us expectedly, the neon signs of shops and stores switching on.

"Like what?" I wanted him to stop. I wanted to just scream at him for being so forceful with the topic. But he needed to now. He had to now. My mind raged on the question. Would it shatter me even more to retell the past? My past?

"To sum it up? Jeb's dead, fatal car accident. Ella ran away, probably got mauled by some creep. And no one gives a single damn about me." I couldn't and wouldn't go into detail for him.

The truth? Jeb was drunk that night, leaving to a bar after he had a fight with mom. Ella had actually been attacked by a stranger, raped before they choked her. It was all over the news for a couple months before America labeled the story as outdated, uninteresting.

And well, I think you'd probably know about mom by now. Valencia had struggled with the fact that Dad died, relying on alcohol to fix it all. And, thereby, ignoring me. So, my life had completely shattered by the age of 14. And somehow, I managed to not drown myself in the aching memories.

"I care about you. Even though Valencia may not, I always will." His fingers lightly stroked my hair, my head still glued to my knees. With an irritated breath, he pulled my head from my hiding spot.

"I wanted to see your eyes. For so long, I missed them." Grasping my chin with his fingers, his eyes kept their gaze on mine, firmly settled on my irises. I tried desperately to avoid looking back at him, but couldn't find myself to do it.

"I will always be by your side, whether you like it or not. I promised never again." Nodding slowly, I swallowed, gulping once again. He smiled warmly at me, my face heating up. Of course, that only made him chuckle.

"I've missed you alot, too. Everything wasn't right without you. You're my wall. You keep me together." I poked his chest with my finger, smiling shyly back. He pulled me closer to him, hooking a hand around my waist. Leaning my head into his chest, I could almost taste the minty embrace emitting from him.

Why couldn't things ever stay this perfect for me?

* * *

School came into view, my feet padding against the cracked pavement. Sighing, I quickened my pace to the front entrance, not wanting to get caught by the populars. My mood was seemingly happy. And for once, I had a smile across my lips when I walked into the building.

But as said before, things don't always go my way. The universe has a way of doing that to me, screwing with my life. When things go good, they suddenly turn into a disaster. When things go bad...they stay bad. So, it's possible to say that the universe despises me. Because every time I try to enjoy myself, it always comes crashing down before me.

Like right now, for example. Me plus a smile, walking with ease down the halls. What happens? A kid thinks it would be funny to trip me, throwing my textbooks out from my grasp. So, here. A sprawled out me forced to listen to the laughter around, the click of phone cameras obscuring my thinking. Once again, the universe had messed with me. And once again, no one gives a single shit.

Did they not see the tears I cried in the bathroom stalls? Or what about the bruises that covered my arms? The stained cheeks I always wore? But somehow no one noticed. Because I was Max. And everyone pushed Max around. Everyone.

The noise of the bell dispersed the crowd surrounding me, quickly gathering up my stuff from the floor. Dust had blanketed my legs, a layer of sweat forming as I sped to my locker. My teacher always asked why I was late, but I never did tell. He always warned me that it'll affect my grades drastically. That, I quote, 'Your parents will be very disappointed.' And that always made me laugh, thinking about that statement.

School was the same. But I always wondered if it would be better with Fang.

* * *

"Max? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It just happened!" I stormed through the forest, not taking a single second to admire the scenery around me. The leaves of winter nestled under my bulky, black boots, leaving imprints of footprints behind my pissed-off aurora.

I didn't listen. All I wanted to do was tune him out.

He really fucked up big time.

_Flashback (30 minutes ago...)_

_"So, um, I didn't really catch your name..." I was currently in biology, forced to partner up with someone in the class. My pencil twirled in my fingers, glaring at the ticking clock. Each tick and tock left me more and more at edge, angry about how slow time was passing by._

_"Oh, uh...Max. Max Ride." He nodded warily, seemingly scared to talk to me. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, a layer of sweat forming on his forehead. I mean, who wouldn't be nervous about being my partner? That right there would be a red flag in the laws of the hierarchy. Even though it wasn't his fault. The teacher probably just hated him._

_"Um...Cool name?" I quirked an eyebrow at him, chuckling softly. The silence was awkward, invisible grasshoppers chirping away in my mind. Placing my pencil between my thumb and index finger, I pointed the pencil at his leaning figure._

_"Ari. Uh...Ari Batchelder." He grinned sheepishly, a hand lingering at the back of his neck. I bobbed my head in acknowledgement, continuing the essay we were assigned too._

_"You must be so happy to have me as a partner, huh?" My voice dripped with sarcasm, seeing if that was actually the reason he was anxious, being paired with me. From what I could tell, he was a jock. But weirdly enough, he didn't act like one._

_His deep brown eyes flicked over to me, glancing for just a second. (I do not know what Ari looks like. I am just improvising. Like at school when I had to improvise a poem that was for homework that I didn't do. It was about bacon.)_

_"Strangely, the rumors and such are unfitting for someone like you. I mean...You don't look crazy." He whispered beside me. I laughed silently, enjoying the 'joke' he made. It would indeed surprise me to think that a person doesn't see me as everyone else. That they see me as worthy or beautiful...and not loony._

_"Are you kidding me? I talk to my imaginary friend on a daily basis. He's the only friend I have." His thumb rubbed his bottom lip, a habit I had noticed since the period begun. I was actually wondering if I scared him before he managed to choke out a few words into the open._

_"Maybe...I can be your...friend, too. I don't really fit in well with the jocks. Which is why I need a new table to sit at." I gathered the words in cautiously, looking around to see if Dylweed or Sam were snickering in a corner. But they weren't even in the class._

_"Yah. I'd like that." The bell had vibrated through the room. He had smiled warmly at me, waving goodbye as he sauntered off to the doorway. But too bad he didn't make it out into the hallway._

_His face frightened, mouth agape. And I could see why. There Fang stood, pinning Dylan to the back of the classroom. My shock soon turned to rage, screaming internally at the event taking place before me._

_"Don't you ever touch Max! You hear me?" He yelled in Ari's face, mortification filling up every inch of his body. His usual smile, twisted into a bitter frown. His tone unusually acrimonious._

_"And all of you! All of you, too!" The class stayed silent. No one dared talk. And I swear, the glares he was sending to the class were far worse than murderous. It was as if he morphed into a whole 'nother person. And boy, was he scary._

_"Do you hear me?!" He boomed, his deep voice echoing throughout the school. I winced slightly at his harsh tone, finding myself backing into a wall in the corner. And as if on cue, a chorus of 'yes' occupied the mouths of the students in the room._

_"Good. Now SCRAM!" And then it was just us. Just me and Fang. Standing on opposite sides of the classroom. I didn't know how he did it, or how it was even possible, but he managed to destroy my status even further and allow himself appear to the human eye._

_"Max..." He spoke slowly, softly...in a calm-like manner. But I was steaming._

_And that's when I ran out of the school, into the forest behind._

_End of flashback._

**OH NOOOOOOOO! I made Max hate Fang again. So sorry guys...oops. Yeaaaaaaaaa...totally didn't mean for that to happen. You see...it was the fingers...the magic fingers (There goes my dirty mind again! AND NOW I WILL MAKE YOU THINK DIRTY THOUGHTS! FOR TIS' CONTAGIOUS! EVEN VIRTUALLY! Because...you know what? Never mind. This is a really long parenthesis note. Oh well.) And guess what?! I PROVIDE YOU WITH EXTRA LONG CHAPTER! BIG AND STRONG, EH? NICE AND PLUMP (EHEHEHEHE! Are you thinking dirty yet? Hmmmm...No? Well thennn...) paragraphs...Nice and plump paragraphs...What? You were thinking of-NEVERMIN**

**Did I ever do a disclaimer? No, i dun think so... Hmmm... welll...here we go.**

**Disclaimer: I dun own Maximum Ride**

**Claimer: But I do own Fat and Juicy (MWAHAHAHAHA! YOU THINK DIRTY ONCE AGAIN, MY FRIEND! I told you...) tomatoes. I own fat and juicy tomatoes. In my...backyard. Yah...and I sell them to um...flying cows with...um...hot dogs. (HAHAHA I HAVE LEFT YOU WITH A TOTAL NUMBER OF 3 DIRTY THOUGHTS TODAY! So proud I might cry...)**


	6. Daddy's Little Munchkin

**GO FIREWORKS! Ahhhhh...but now their keeping me up...AHHH! STOPPP THE BOOMINGGGGGG! I CAN'T SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! AND TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE...There's is a spider on my bed! AHHHHHHHHHHH! SAVE ME, JIMBOB! SAVE ME!**

The air was chilly, my feet settling down on the forest floor. I didn't want to run anymore. I just wanted to...relax. A leaf brushed against my palm, dragging me back to the cruel reality. But the leaf. It wasn't like all the others, all crumpled and dry. It was green. And it was...different. Kind of like me.

I smiled at the object drifting down in my hands, slowly pushing it into my pocket. I wanted to save it, to keep it unique. To keep it away from all the others, the pitiless others that caused it pain. I could almost hear the little plant's whisper of gratitude. And then I thought, maybe I am crazy. But I had Fang. And all that the others had was a bitter wave of rumors washing over them, drowning in their gossip-filled chatters.

"Max..." His breath drawling out hastily, hands cupping his knees. I sighed silently. Turning around to face him, I patted the emptiness next to me, ushering him to sit on the soily grounds. He nodded slightly, setting free the lonely feeling occupying my stomach.

"How did you do it?" I asked. His eyes grew questioning, drumming his fingertips on the ground as usual. I bit a sliver of skin off my lip, realizing the metallic taste of blood was taking up every inch of my mouth.

"Do what? Appear?" I nodded my head, feeling a lock of my hair flop in front of my eyes. He chuckled lightly, grabbing the strands and pushing the bundle behind my ears. Each second that passed, the temperature of the outdoors seemed to drop significantly. And each time it did, I shivered involuntarily.

"I don't really know. It just happened." He was hesitant to the question, and I could tell. And it made me remember when Fang had asked me about my past, not wanting to answer. So I didn't push the topic any further than that, sitting in silence as I cuddled into Fang's side. He let out an exasperated breath, setting his head down on a nearby rock.

The stars seemed even more glorious than before, releasing all the tension built up inside of me as I gazed endlessly at the nightfall above us. It's times like these that I want to last forever. But knowing they can't, I cherish every bit of those moments, keeping them tucked away with the few good memories I had.

My life was hanging by a thread. A thin thread. It was once a rope. But now...only a tiny string. And the past is the puppeteer, controlling my every movement and thought. I am but a marionette. And as time goes by, the scissors of the present keep snipping bits and bits of the thread that I have left. And soon, when my string collapses, so will I.

Fang was the only thing keeping me up. And therefore, alive.

* * *

The fireworks echoed above me, the gun shots dispersing in the air a few seconds later. The sky was an admirable mix of colors. White with blue. Purple paired with green. Red matched with gold. And flecks of glittering dust running across the sidelines of the colored explosions. It was, as how I felt it was during the time, magical.

"They're really something." Fang spoke beside me. I just nodded in response, to mesmorized by the morphing lights. And once again, I was in a trance, the outer world at fault. Just like the thunderstorm, the fireworks were my pendulum. But unlike before, nothing was stopping me from my heavenly daze. No teachers restricting me.

It was almost as if I could just reach out and catch them, my hopes of that fading away as they did the same. But snapping out of my trance, me stopping myself, I glanced to the side. He was as mesmerized as myself, the colors splashing across his obsidian irises. A wave of happiness pulled me under, seeing him along with his 8 year old self. The time we both first saw the show together.

_Max (8 years old)_

_Baby Ella's crying rang through my ears, trying my best to not yell in frustration. Being just an infant, she didn't get yelled at when she cried. But when I had a tantrum over Mommy's cookies, it was apparently 'inappropriate'._

_"Daddy! Tell Ella to be quiet!" I whisper-yelled to him, my breath reeking of garlic. I pinched his bearded cheeks, feeling the scratchiness of his facial hair across my fingers. I giggled mentally, returning my attention to my supposed 'pleading'._

_"Sorry, munchkin. She's a baby. When you were a baby, you were ten times worse. And did you even brush your teeth little missy?" I stuck my bottom lip out, pouting at his chocolatey brown eyes. Oh, yes. I brang in the Bambi Eyes._

_"But Daddy! I didn't want to brush my teeth! It's not my fault! My toothbrush was covered in um...little monsters. So I couldn't!" He chuckled softly, patting his hand on my head and therefore, messing up my hair. I growled and raked my locks with my fingers, combing it once again._

_"Monsters, you say?" I nodded, bobbing my curls across my forehead. He smiled gently at me, pulling me into his lap. I giggled and grinned my toothy grin._

_"You mean like the..Tickle Monster?!" At that question, he began to tickle me endlessly. On my stomach, my neck, my feet, and anywhere I was ticklish. I screamed loudly, the laughs tightening my stomach as I drew them out._

_"No, Daddy! Ahhhhh! Stop!" He laughed heartedly, still continuing his torturous ways. That is, until Mommy stopped him, thank god._

_"Jeb! The show starts in 2 minutes! Shhh!" He quickly put me down beside him, ruffling my hair once more. I grunted and crossed my arms over my chest, displeased. And right at that moment, I panicked. Because I couldn't find Fang._

_"Wait, Daddy! I can't find Fang! Did we leave him at home?" My eyes widened at the thought, unable to bear that reality. We had to bring him along. We had to. My eyes started watering, a glossy shine adding to the tears spilling out of my eyes._

_"Why are you crying, Maxie?" I turned around quickly, only coming face to face with him. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling him hug me back, his head resting on mine. He always bragged about the major height difference._

_"Shorty. I should call you that for now on." I slapped his arm, dragging him to the red-checkered blanket my family had set out. We both took a seat at the far end, chuckling at each others words. He brought his thumb up to wipe the tears away, brushing the cooling feeling off my face. Mommy shot me disapproving looks, but at the time, I didn't know why._

_And thats when the fireworks started._

_End of Flashback_

I buried my face into Fang's shoulder, sobbing slightly. He was surprised at first, but eased up, stroking my hair in attempt to comfort me. Taking a breath, I let the sickening drops fall. It felt like acid running down my cheeks.

****"Where have the times gone, Fang?"

**SO SAD! Especially that marionette metaphor. I made that extremely depressing...FOR YOU! Because you guys just loooooooooooooove depressing stuff, right? And I am saying now, I have stopped all dirty thoughts from here on out. So no more. No more naughtiness (Ahhhh ITS HAPPENING AGAIN!) because I know I've been very bad lately (GOSH STOPPIT MIND! STOP! NO MORE! I CAN'T TAKE THE DIRTINESS!) Curse these magic fingers once again (GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! NO! NOT THAT MAGIC FINGERS!) COW HOT DOGS! (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NEVER! *Cries from too much intake of dirtiness* Why me?) I am eating watermelons. There's no way to make that dirty. Wait a minute...OH, GOD DAMMIT!**


	7. Porcelain Pieces

`My hand caressed my cheek slowly, fingers trickling over the bloody wound in shock. The past few minutes...seemed so unreal. Yelling, screaming, crying...but never this. Not once did the thought ever occur. I knew things were bad. But I didn't know they were this extreme.

Mom gaped in horror, hand hovering over quivering lips. Her reaction mirrored mine. Disbelief. I slowly collapsed to the ground. My palms entangled in my sweat-soaked hair, I ripped a single strand astray. Just to check. And there it appeared, the searing pain across my scalp, torturing me with the fact that this was indeed reality.

And what had happened couldn't be undone. The anger she had acted upon will be forever stitched into my mind, the imprint of her hand jaggedly sewn into the fabric of my thoughts. But now I really did know the truth. That my home could never contain such things as a family again.

_Flashback (5 minutes ago...)_

_"Where is it?!" A pillow was tossed at my head, my lingering figure standing, arms crossed, at the foot of her bed. She clawed at her covers viciously, tearing her pillows one by one. It was happening again._

_"Maximum! I am your mother and you will listen-" But she was soon interrupted by the sound of crumbling plaster. Across the wall, a newly formed hole had appeared, thick dust spreading over the tension between us. And there I pulled my fist astray from the imprint, dripping in red._

_"You're not my mother! Not anymore!" Her wails of desperation were the only sounds I was able to process, flooding my ears at an incredulous pace. And that's when it happened. It all seemed as if the actions taking place were fixated in slow motion, unable to comprehend what exactly was coming next._

_Tears flowed, the moonlight causing them to gleam. With a loud cry, she toppled to her bedside, realizing her mistake. Blood tickled the side of my head, dripping at an agonizing pace. The thick liquid collided with my freshly brewed tears, crimson taking a lighter tint as it dripped off my chin. In front of me was a lamp. A broken, porcelain lamp._

_That mom had thrown at my head._

_End of flashback._

The shattered material taunted me as I stood my place. She was passed out, tears staining her pale cheeks. But no matter how hard I tried, mine wouldn't cease. Not only because of the physical pain itself, but because this woman used to be someone I had looked up to. A role model at it's best when I was younger.

But the only thing I could now see was an disoriented lady, poisoned with the effects of addiction.

* * *

I skimmed the portrait, taking in every inch of the picture. They looked so perfect, so happy. And then I thought: Perfect. Perfection. Something this household held long ago. But it lost that title just as quick as it earned it. I'm sure it's simple enough to guess why.

Sighing, I ran my thumb over a specific being. It was her. The young girl with the smile. I remembered her laugh. And her contagious smile. And everything about her that I missed. Which was pretty much everything.

"You have no idea, Ells. No idea." I whispered softly, pressing my thumb harder against the glass surface of the frame. I always wondered why it all happened. This and that. You know: Everything happens for a reason. But for me, it just seems the universe is playing some sick game.

I should be hating her, though. She ruined us. The perfection. She messed it all up. But somehow, I managed to cling onto the picture in an even tighter grasp, feeling my sanity seep from my sweaty palms.

"Ella, come back. You have to come back. I need you." I pleaded to the picture, damp from the tears. My hands shook vigorously, breath but an inhuman speed. It was all so messed up. So, so messed up.

_"I want to die, Max."_

When she ran away, she meant for...that to happen. She knew the consequences. But she didn't care. Which is the reason why I should despise her. Because she ruined us. And she took part of me with her

_"Don't say things like that, Ells."_

_"Why not? It's not like you'd care, anyway."_

_"What did you say?"_

"Ella!" I screamed into my pillow, ruffling the tassels hanging loosely on the side. Tears had punctured the fabric, spreading the droplets across the material. My cheeks gleamed under the faint moonlight, the silver dime hidden behind a flurry of clouds.

_"Max...It slipped out."_

_"Ella, I'd kill myself for you."_

_"Maxie..."_

_"No. It's true. I care about you so much, it hurts. It hurts so bad. But I struggle through it. You know why?"_

_"Why?"_

_"Because. Nothing in the world can make me happier than your smile. So, please. Smile, Ells."_

"Why?! Why this, why me?! Quit your fucking game, already!" My throat burned with rage, unable to sense what I was doing. But I didn't care. I just wanted her home. And Dad. And him. All together. As one big family.

_"I love you, Maxie-kins."_

_"Love you too, Ellie."_

It hurt so bad to remember. To recall. To think, in general. All those memories, boxed up in the attic. All those laughs, bottled up inside those pictures. My 7th birthday, the day I met him. No matter how hard I tried, they followed me everywhere, stalking my cowering figure.

It was a never ending shadow washing over me.

* * *

I jumped at the sudden touch, but quickly calmed as to seeing who exactly it was. His chin settled atop my head, nestling into my scraggly locks. He smelled of his usual aroma. Peppermint.

"Shorty." I could feel him grin against my scalp, sending a wave of heat throughout my face. I squirmed under his hold, but it was no use. I was indeed the 'short' one.

"Stop, Fang." He chuckled, backing up a few steps. But his face soon contorted into confusion as his eyes flicked to the bandage laid across my cheek. I knew what was coming. I could just sense the tension as his thumb brushed over the lining.

"Dylan?" He breathed. I shook my head, heart rattling inside of me. I always hated seeing him in this state. It just made me want to shrivel up and hide. From the intensity of his glare, that's all I wanted to do at that moment.

"Sam?" His eyes narrowed, voice laced with pure venom. I once again shook my head, fingers trembling beside me. He always thought highly of...'her'. Would he really believe me?

"Who?" I was shocked at the sudden turn in his words. His voice seemed to crack, disbelief clouding his irises. I wanted him to stop. To back away.

"Who did that, Max?!" Grabbing my chin, he jerked my head to the side, sliding his fingers over the damage**.** A droplet spilled from the corner of my eye. But of course, he had wiped it away before it could have even fallen.

"Mom. Mom did. It was a lamp." His eyes widened slightly, recognition taking control. He gulped, sending his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"V-Valencia?" I nodded. He stumbled forward, reaching for my palms, clasping them with his own. His fingertips felt sweaty, pulling me forward into a hug.

_"I'm never there. I'm always gone. It's my fault."_

**SO FUCKING SAD! But, do not fret dear readers. For I see Fax in le...NEXT CHAPTER. How bout that? Okay, okay. I admit. I have been extremely lazy. Very very very very lazy. And I want to poke myself in the eye with needles for it (Or maybe squirt Loreal Kids Shampoo in my eyes? No tears my ass. Shit's like acid.). But I just wanted to say one thing... uno (Whatever thing is in Spanish.) The first week I had abandoned updating, there was a reason. A highly serious reason. My best friend tried committing suicide. And that's when I thought: ****_What kind of a friend am I? I didn't listen! _****And so began my week long calls to the hospital she was at, begging them that she was okay. And she was. And I was ecstatic. But then there's that little detail. What happened after that one week? VACATION, SCHOOL, STAYING UP LATE SO I COULD WATCH SWORD ART ONLINE...stuff like that. And I feel shitty for not updating. So sorry. Virtual flowers? *Hands you a bouquet of roses.* *Virtually, of course.***

**P.S. Sorry to the people who don't like roses. The virtual flower shop ran out of the other virtual flowers.**

**A Carnival Of Idiots On Show**


	8. The Bowl Of Tomato Soup

**Ok. About half (Or more) of the comments last time included a specific word. Confused. I know, I know. This story is getting weird. But bear with me. Because it's about to get way weirder. Why do you think I made it a Romance/Supernatural? It could've been a Drama, Adventure, etc...But, the plot is just twisted for this story. And the turning points in the story are even crazier than what I have scheduled. SO BE PATIENT, GRASSHOPPERS! AND WATERMALONES! Haha. There. I'll call my fans watermalones for now on...Who's got a staples button? CAUSE THAT WAS EASY! Hehehehe...**

**A quick note: To my Talk readers- I have put that story on pause so I could focus on this one.**

**Another quick note: To my Hidden readers- That story was just a sample. I'm not planning on continuing it. Hehe...Sorry?**

**FOR NARNIA!**

* * *

The curtains were closed. The door was locked. And here I was, at the edge of the bed, staring at the dents across the ceiling. Why? Because someone thought it'd be the safest for me. So you won't get harmed, he stated. Harmed my ass.

I licked my bottom lip, feeling blood dribble down the tip of my tongue. Of course, I had already recognized the taste. According to my brain, It was the same sickening flavor. Salty yet Metallic. The crimson liquid sloshed around my mouth as I struggled to not swallow, waiting for the horrid feel to dissipate from my mouth.

"Oh god..." I blubbered, grabbing a trash can nearby. My throat ached, the miniscule baby barf morphing into a full blown vomit. My hands trembled against the rim. All my thoughts blurred as I waited for the burning in my esophagus to cease.

I wiped my lips with the ragged attire I had acquired. The sleeve of the sweatshirt had now taken a damp state. But as I had peered into the waste bin, the color of what I had expected was far from what I was viewing at that moment. Crumpled papers, used napkins, tissues...all soaked in red.

It wasn't slimy and green...It was blood.

"No...No, no, no..." My teeth grinded against each other, jaw set in a firm clench. It was all her fault. All her fault. This wasn't normal. This was...disgusting. Far from average...horrid. I suddenly felt a nauseating wave wash over me, gripping the bin once more.

It was all her fault.

* * *

"What happened?" He asked, tilting his head to the right. It was weird. The fact that he always knew something was wrong. My stomach laid flat on the comforter, cushioned by the plush fabric below. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. My thoughts reverted back to the blood, the vomit...the trash can.

I groaned. "The trash can. Look in there. You'll see." I flipped over on my backside. The nauseating wave was still present, drowning me constantly. Earlier, I tried to look for some pain medication. Turns out were out. Just like half the groceries In the fridge.

"What the hell am I looking at?" His nose was crinkled, giving off a 'disgusted' look. The originally red substance was now brown, dried up and crusty along the edges of the containment. I angled my head towards him. He was squatting by my wooden desk, peering into the depths of the bin.

"Blood. I vomited blood." I could feel the raspiness of my voice as those words left my throat. It felt like a tiger was scratching the roof of my mouth. Basically, non-stop pain. My fingers traced circles across y temple, attempting to rid me of my current headache. It didn't work.

"Blood." He stated simply. Nose crinkled no more, lips forming into a thin line. He was like a statue. A n immovable stone statue. The lights around me seemed to drive my migraine further, so I kept my eyelids glued shut, darkness engulfing my view. It didn't improve much.

"You vomited blood." He repeated himself. Squinting, I could see his hand tousling his hair. I only but grunted. It too seemed like a big deal before, but I simply accepted it. Ignoring it seemed like the best option to me. Unfortunately, Fang didn't quite agree with my strategy of handling this situation.

"Yes, Fang. I vomited blood. Would you like me to spell that sentence out for you?" As irritated as I was, I felt a sudden pang of guilt attack my stomach. I was never rude to Fang. Ever. I never felt the need to sustain an attitude near him.

He sighed silently, pacing to the bedside. My head was draped over the side, feeling the blood rush to my read. But actually, that method was helping my headache. Surprisingly. Placing the back of his hand on my forehead, he stilled his fingers, waiting but a few seconds before pulling away.

"You have a fever." Grabbing the back of my head, he pulled me up onto the bed and away from the edge. Sitting upright, a feeling of dizziness overcame my skull. The blood was rushing back to normal.

"I feel like shit." I mumbled. Everything was dancing, and I'm not sure which Fang was talking. There were three. He chuckled, bringing his fingertips over to the strand covering my face. Pushing it away, he raked through all the knots and snarls softly.

"Remember when we were young. You got sick, and I stayed by your side throughout the whole three days." I smiled at the memory. He refused to leave my side until I felt better. He's always been like that. Loyal.

"Yeah. And then you got sick." I laughed roughly. My voice was still aching, every word vibrating my throat violently. As my chest rose and fell, I savoured that flashback. It was one of the few good ones.

He climbed onto the bed, lying beside my sniffling figure. "No. You'll get a fever too, idiot." I pushed him away, secretly praying he'd stay by my side. Of course, he just crawled right back into the spot he lied in previously.

"I stayed with you then. I'm staying with you now."

_Flashback_

_Max (8 years old)_

_"Tomato soup!" He shouted, jumping on the mattress. I groaned loudly, shoving him off with my foot. He fell with a loud thunk._

_"What?" My brain was throbbing, the trash can practically glued to my palms. I hated this feeling. This...weakness. It was infuriating. Just like Fang when he kept bouncing on my mattress. Like that's going to help a girl with food poisoning. Should've never went to that buffet._

_"I'll make you tomato soup. So you can eat it and be healthy again!" I giggled and nodded. He laughed and raced out of the room, tripping before he exited the doorway. Rolling my eyes, I felt my forehead once more. Still hot. Darn._

_5 minutes later!_

_"Ow...Ow! OWWWW!" Fang screamed, carrying the glass bowl with his bare hands. I snatched it from him, placing it on my nightstand._

_"Duh! You're supposed to have a potholder." He winced slightly as I shoved the ice pack ,previously used on my head, onto his burn. He yelped loudly, me yelling at him to shut up._

_"I can't believe you burned yourself just for tomato soup." I sighed, sitting back down. His eyebrows furrowed, looking as though he was focusing on something._

_"Well, why wouldn't I? As long as you're happy, I'd do anything for you." I smiled happily, grabbing Fang by surprise. His arms snaked around me, placing his hands on my back._

_"I love you, Fang."_

_"Love you too, Maxie."_

_"D-DON'T CALL ME MAXIE, IDIOT!"_

_End of Flashback_

"I love you, Max. Fang whispered softly into my hair. His breath tickled my scalp, sending comforting tingles throughout my body.

"Love you too, Idiot."

**Soooooooooooo...Good? Mayyyyybeeeee. Yeah, I have a bad feeling about this chapter. Anyways...WATERMALONES..hehehe. MY WATERMALONES...yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss...t o lazy for authors note. Sorryyy. *Faints on keyboard*. rgslnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnb nbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnbnb v...**

** A Carnival Of Idiots On Show**

**Oh yeah! To whoever asked: ELLA IS DEAD. Those were just flashbacks in the last chapter. Just so you're not confused.**


	9. The Crash, The Kiss

_The glass shattering. His coarse hands. The windshield._

My nails scraped my scalp, cutting into the skin. I tugged my hair violently, shrill screams exiting my cracked lips. The flashbacks were returning. The memories. I locked my wrists around my ankles, rocking back and forth as If I were an antique chair.

I clutched the rim of the can, barfing down the remains of breakfast. The blood was still imminent in the mixture, growing worse every day. An hour, it seems at times. And so was my worry. Of course, Mom couldn't take me to a doctor. She wasn't..._stable_. Plus, she had the papers needed to schedule an appointment. Well, at least I _think_ she did.

My stomach ached for relief, but the painkillers weren't helping. I didn't swallow more than what was listed, due to my extreme fear of drugs. (Can you guess why? Hint: She's in the next room over, zombie-like, and reeks of alcohol and vomit.) She first overdosed when he doctor prescribed her a bottle of Anti-depressants. It just escalated from there.

_"Dad!" I yelled. His sharp swerves and turns were causing me to heave a great deal of worry. I never noticed the smell of his breath until it was too late. The fragrance? Beer._

I bit my finger, keeping myself from shrieking. It didn't work. My body shook with fear. I didn't want to remember any more than that. But the horror flick didn't cease there. Oh, no. It replayed. And replayed. And...replayed.

_His body was still against the damp soil of the forest. We were about 10 miles away from a hospital. The car broke down. Dad was dead._

_"No!"_ I shrilled. My tone was ear-splitting. But I didn't care. It was my fault he died. I should've noticed his breath, the alcohol. I should've stopped him. He didn't leave that night for the bar. He drove the the grocery store. With me beside him.

We crashed. He flew through the shattered windshield.

* * *

"Do-do that again." I whispered to Fang. His face was but a mere few centimeters away. I could sense the way his eyes gazed over me, softening as they passed over the wounds. He reached for my hand. I let him take hold of my palms.

"Do what?" He smirked. I huffed silently, feeling the atmosphere thicken around me. Like a big glop of molasses. His index finger pressed circles into the side of my wrist, sliding over my bandages with a touch as smooth as silk.

"That...you know. What you just did." I felt embarrassed. And I could just hear the flush coating my face. Fang, however, was sitting there, amused at my request. I rolled my eyes and stood up. I was humiliated enough already. I could live without one...thing.

My feet padded toward the door, clicking against the wood with an irritated 'plink'. I pinched the bridge of my nose. My throat was impeccably sore lately, unable to speak without wincing from the pain.

"Wait. Max." Fang's hand snaked around my wrist, twisting me a whole 360 degrees. And once again I felt the molasses. The thick, annoying molasses that floated in the air around us. I wanted to slam my head against a wooden board. But yet I also wanted to relish this seemingly intense moment with him.

He lowered his lips onto mine, an electric buzz surging through me. I felt...amazing. Like nothing was wrong. Like everything was right. Perfection was still my leashed pet, constant and...well perfect. But no matter how hard I tried, no 'lost' poster would ever find me what I've misplaced. But for now? I was going to pretend like everything was okay. For Fang.

His hair felt like silk against my touch, and I swore I heard a moan emit from the back of his throat. But maybe I was just hearing things. Or not. He slithered his palms against my hips, pulling me closer to his chest. My heart was pounding, knocking against my chest plate.

To my disappointment, he pulled away, kissing the tip of my nose before gauging my reaction. My heart felt as if it were to burst any moment. I took a step toward him, lightly tapping the ground with the tip of my shoe.

"You idiot." I breathed. His eyes widened.

"Do that again."

* * *

Total yipped happily, licking the tips of my fingers. The alarm clock blared throughout the room, playing some loud song I couldn't possibly label. I yawned. My arms extended, touching the wall, as I stretched my tired muscles.

It was school. Everyone had gotten a week off. I didn't know why, but all I could tell was that I was in for one hell of a beating from Sam and Dylan. The scabs across my scalp begged me to pick them, but I didn't. The last thing I needed was more scars.

It wasn't really awkward after mine and Fang's kiss. It was just to cheer me up, anyway, I knew. But I yearned for that feeling again. I don't want to say butterflies. Too cliche. Yes, thats it. Like you're at the tip of the rollercoaster, about to feel the sensation of G-force. Yes. That will do.

Basically, I wanted that relief again. I felt normal. I felt...me. Fang was slowly cracking me open once more and I was oblivious to the whole thing. All I knew was that he was the one who kept me standing. I would be but an emotionless wall if he hadn't reappeared.

It was all Fang.

**Hello, My watermalones! Hoped you like the Fax. Surprisingly, I loved this chap! And I even know how I'm going to end the story. The problem hasn't been introduced yet but it will. Like I said before, BEAR WITH ME POR FAVOR (that how you spell it?) Doesn't por favor (?) sound like a better name for friend than amigos in spanish? Well I think so. I'm just weird.**

**Anyways, I actually have my next story planned. Summary in next chap, but let me know what you think of the title (I FEEL SO GOOD ABOUT IT EEEHHEHEHEHEHH! *BARFS RAINBOWS*):**

**_My Ex-Boyfriend, The Werewolf_****. It will be a Fax. Of course. TELL MEH WHAT YAH THINK ABOOT DAH TITLE!**

**Q: Anybody ever heard of a band called "The Neighbourhood"?**


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